


All I need is To Breathe

by orphan_account



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Hurt!Lavellan, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-15 00:49:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4586688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Anchor is like a parasite, they know this, but at the very moment, it's Kaim's only saving grace. </p>
<p>And Dorian will never allow Kaim to die.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All I need is To Breathe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [enaykin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/enaykin/gifts).



> _Not beta, sorry ( ≖.≖)_

*

It was odd, he thought. Despite of his bloodied past and the brutish pathways he had to endure, Dorian still couldn't adapt to the scent of fresh blood or the foreign contact of having the red nectar smeared all over his hands. He had decently presumed he was adjusting to it and yet --

"--oria-- Dorian!"

The mage dazed out from his unwanted trance. Lower lip trembled as he finally looked down at the mold of dark hair scattered around his laps, Kaim's head resting upon his knees (no no no please don't not now someone do something) as the elf stared up at him with something akin to worry and anguish. Then Kaim smiled slowly, weakly at him. His finger briskly rose to brush against Dorian's fringe.

"Hey hey. L-look- at me...Dorian..." Kaim wheezed softly. He waited and waited for the human to finally find his gaze. Kaim's small smile never faltered. "...I'll- be f-fine...Okay?"

Sera, from where she was kneeling, worked her way gently but efficiently to lift Kaim's neck and slid a tattered linen pack under his head to assure the elf wouldn't choke on his own blood. She moved her hands deftly, pressing them on the angry, raw gash that carved its way from the line of Kaim's shoulder-blade and down to his right waist.

(The red Templars would pay for this. Her eyes darkened. She'd slay them all for harming Kaim)

Dorian knew. He could feel her glare on him because he was the one with the brain here, the one who supposed to support his amatus instead of breaking down like a beaten cub.

"Dorian, you piss bucket! Do something! Do your Tevinter trick! Or whatever!" The octave in her voice wavered. The snow beneath them was carpeted with the hue of lush red, creating shapeless patterns against the cold surface.

"I'm trying!" He really wasn't. The tremor's grip on him was too strong. Dorian sought left Kaim's hand, holding it in his much warmer one and--- it was like a weak static pulsed through his veins but he felt the thump thump in his chest and before Sera could provoke him further, Dorian blinked at the sudden crystalline tattoo that appeared on his arm. It took a shape of an ice rune, swirling, moving against Dorian's skin before it grew, and climbing from the tip of his fingers and to the bend of his elbow like an insidious tendril. 

"What in the frick of horse's pee--?" Sera wailed.

Kaim coughed.

Dorian continued staring at the ominous view before him. The tattoo materialized from the same spot where Kaim had touched him.

How?

"I-feel...weird." Kaim said, tiredly. He still was the very epitome of _'almost-dying'_ and _'if he lived, it'd be a miracle'_ but the look of _'death is grasping me'_ had dissipated from Kaim's face. Now he just looked tired. And at the brink of passing out. Yet still very much breathing. The Anchor burst quietly for a moment before its green lit dimmed.

"I don't understand..." Sera whispered.

Could it be?

"Sera," Dorian pulled the she-elf's hand harshly - he would apologize later - and rest it on Kaim's other hand. Mimicking its previous act, the same tattoo of ice rune materialized on Sera's palm, surging gently up until it reached her elbow, ceasing its movement entirely. Now simply swirling and dancing on her skin as if the tattoo had always belonged there.

"What? No no! No magic on me!" The girl tried to pull her hand away from Kaim. Their Inquisitor was simply lying there. Quiet and unresponsive. A contort of confusion on his face and _please let my assumption be correct_.

"If you want to save Kaim, don't let go of his hand."

Sera stopped prying her arm.

Kaim slowly gazed up at Dorian, expecting.

"I may be wrong, which is quiet rare, but the Mark is feeding off on another's _élan Vital_ to protract its host's vitality, like a parasite of some sort."

Perhaps he explained it crudely because seconds later, Sera did pull her hand away whilst Kaim tried his hardest to retract his hold from the both of them. The tattoo on Sera and Dorian swirled timidly as it slowly disperse.

"Not letting it near me. No way!"

"I’m with Sera-

Childish, he thought, but it was mayhap more prone to selfishness when Dorian once again brashly clawed at Sera's hand and joined it with Kaim's. Dorian stubbornly cemented his grip on his lover. Like a sacred melody, the tattoo resurfaced on both of his and Sera's arm, spiraling with an unpropitious ease.

"Listen." Dorian said, mostly to Sera than to Kaim. His tone neutral. Yet his eyes were dark like an untamed wolf. "I'm a Necromancer, not a Healer. I possess no aptness to heal such wounds on him and a basic healing knowledge will do him no good. A thousand of elfroot won't preserve his life and - damn it Sera, stop that! And don't you dare move, Kaim - at this rate if we do nothing, he will die from blood loss. We can't move him in fear that we might worsen his condition. So if the Mark deems our lives below him and at the same time worthy to be devoured, then let the Mark feast on us. I won't allow Kaim to die."

Kaim's response was to snarl at his lover, despite his broken body. "Are you hearing yourself, Dorian? You'd sacrifice Sera?!" _and yourself?_

"No." Dorian calmly whispered. Heavily, he offered a smile at the now silent elf-girl. Sera merely observed him with a dubious glance. "It'll not come to that. Just for a moment. Until I'm sure we can finally move you without further damaging your wounds. Trust me, amatus. Please."

"A'ight." Sera murmured. "Stay still, Kaim. We'll wait until the others arrive then we stop, Kay?" she grasped his fingers in hers, allowing their nails to touch.

Her eyes were soft and as much as Kaim would prefer to fight them, in his current plight the only thing he was capable of doing was simply cursing the Mark on his hand for leading them to this predicament.

"I'm right here, amatus. All is well."

The tattoo pulsed as the Mark glistened. Beautiful in its own twisted way.

Above them, the snow pirouetted like an observer from a faraway world.

*


End file.
